Secrets
by The-Goldstein-Sharpshooter
Summary: Songfic. Arthur writes Alfred a letter during the Blitz, and tries to give it to him. No pairings, just family fluff. World War 2 fic.


**_First songfic! The song is Secrets, by One Republic. _**

**_I do not own the song, nor do I own Hetalia._**

**_Takes place during the London Blitz. I might've fudged some facts, but that's what artistic license is for, right? Enjoy._**

* * *

**Secrets**

It may have well been over midnight, but in one room in that house, light glows from a lamp. Sitting on his desk, Arthur Kirkland stared blankly at the empty piece of paper in front of him. A pen hung idly from his fingers. Outside, there's a reddish haze on the horizon, and flames are licking upwards, hell fire aimed at burning away everything and anything in sight.

He had the instrument, he had the message, all that remained were the words. What words to write though? He gritted his teeth in pain as yet another bomb hits London.

_I need another story_

Bending down, he scribbled out a few words, frowned, and then crossed them out. This was repeated a few times, and by the fourth failure he scowled and scrunched up the paper.

_Something to get off my chest_

Tossing it into the corner of the room, he took out a fresh piece and took a deep breath to calm himself down. He couldn't afford to mess this up. He needed to do this. Just in case.

_My life gets kinda boring_

Putting pen to paper, he tried again. He had had to use his red pen, his others had gone missing in the mess around his desk. That irked him, a bit. He had always used blue or black. Red just reminded him of what was happening in London now.

_Need something that I can confess_

As the pen moved across the paper, his sleeves accidentally smudged the ink a little as he flinched, gunfire peppering his beloved capital. However, he carried on.

_Till all my sleeves are stained red_

Slowly, more and more words started to fill the letter. As he kept going, it was getting easier, for some reason, to write down something that he had kept bottled up for so long.

_From all the truth that I've said_

Finally, he finished the letter and signed his name at the bottom. Reaching for an envelope, he put the letter in and sealed it. He'd give it to him tomorrow. He got out of the chair and headed for his bedroom for some much needed rest. The door closed on the empty and dark study room.

_Come by it honestly I swear, thought you saw me wink no, I've been on the brink so_

* * *

The next day, he tried to give Alfred the letter. But it didn't help that all their encounters ended with arguments. The boy was just so intent on annoying him, really what did he want!

_Tell me what you want to hear_

In the middle of their current fight, Arthur suddenly remembers so long ago that they weren't like this. He didn't used to insult him, didn't used to put him down at every opportunity he got. All he had for him were his bright smile and his twinkling eyes as he reached for his guardian's hand.

_Something that were like those years_

As he snapped back at another insensitive comment, he can't help but wonder. Really, why did they fight so often? Arthur half-wondered whether Alfred meant all those hurtful things he said. Didn't he know that each of them was like a slap to the face?

_Sick of all the insincere_

He really needed to give him that letter, to explain everything to him. Maybe if he did, then they'd stop fighting so much. Maybe Alfred would understand.

_So I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

He made up his mind at the end of the day that he'd finally give Alfred the letter. He walked up to him, his hands in his coat.

_This time_

It doesn't matter that the letter he's giving him is smudged, it's the message that counts, right?

_Don't need another perfect line_

For a moment, he shudders to know what Francis would say if he found out that he was getting so damned sentimental. But then again, he hasn't seen the frog ever since France was overrun...

Arthur called out to Alfred as he's shaking hands with his prime minister.

_Don't care if critics never jump in line_

The boy turned, grinned and yelled his goodbye before Arthur can even say a word. And then just like that, he's off, swallowed by the crowd of people. His hands were still holding the letter as he watches his little boy disappear away from him, an uncharacteristic sad expression on his face.

_I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

* * *

The next day, he's back in his study, working again.

_My God_

Arthur looked at the designs for new weapons, and for a moment he remembers his musket hanging in his room. The same one which he used on that cursed day...

_Amazing how we got this far_

He doesn't really like all the focus on weaponry. There are better things to spend money on. His brow furrowed as memories of clashing swords and dead men screaming came to him.

_It's like we're chasing all those stars_

But then again, they were going to need this technology if they were going to counter the German tanks. Those things were monsters, taking out men like flies. Arthur rubbed his temples briefly, and signed his consent.

_Who's driving shiny big black cars_

Accidentally, he knocked over a stack of papers. Cursing, he ducked underneath the desk, only to come face to face with the daily newspaper.

_And every day I see the news, all the problems that we could solve_

His fingers trembled as he brought the newspaper closer. The death count, the damage... All the details spelt out for him in big inked letters.

_And when a situation rises just write it into an album_

Straightening up, his hand gingerly touched the bandage on his arm, courtesy of the prior night's assault. The flames had been really fierce, burning away skin and flesh right to the bone.

_Send it straight to gold_

His mouth is set in a tense straight line. He placed the paper right in front of him, next to the letter he still has yet to pass to Alfred and gets back to work with renewed determination.

_But I don't really like my flow, no so_

* * *

He's arguing with Churchill now. The Prime Minister is horrified at his suggestion, but Arthur will not let that fucking kraut get the better of him.

_Tell me what you want to hear_

He fought back with a passion that he thought he had lost a long time ago, when America left him.

_Something that were like those years_

He'll protect his people with his own hands. Not hide behind the young men and women who were dying for him. Even now, he can see their dead eyes glaring at the sky, at him, his tattered flag bloodied on the ground.

_Sick of all the insincere_

He shoved the newspaper in front of Churchill, jabbing at the headlines.

_So I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

People are dying, and all I'm doing is twiddling my bloody thumbs in my room! I can help lessen the casualties, just let me, damn it! He's snapped at his prime minister, his eyes furious.

_This time_

Churchill's trying to placate him, trying to point out that he's too valuable, but damn it, what was he without the citizens who were being burned alive every night?

_Don't need another perfect line_

All the other members of parliament stared at the argument, shocked and nervous. They whispered among themselves, words like "insane" and "too dangerous" popping up here and there.

_Don't care if critics never jump in line_

In the end, Churchill relented. With a sigh of exasperation, he agreed to Arthur's demands, but implored him to be careful. Arthur smiled and nodded, before turning to get ready. His smirk is painted all over his face, and he's going to give Germany the shock of his life tonight.

_So I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

* * *

Night comes too soon, and Arthur's sitting in a clearing with a Gladiator warplane next to him. Closing his eyes, he feels for the letter in his pocket. His other hand clenched and he vowed that he'll give all he's got tonight.

He thinks of the mistakes he's done. He thinks of the Revolutionary War. He thinks off America.

_Got no reason got no shame_

That day in the rain, the two of them fighting...Alfred's shock and surprise when Arthur held the musket to his head. The fear in his blue eyes.

_Got no family I can blame_

His thoughts are interrupted as the sirens start to wail from a far. His head whirled around, and yes, he can see them flying over the distance.

_Just don't let me disappear_

He started the plane up, jumped into it, and took off to the skies.

_I'mma tell you everything_

Five minutes later, and he's shooting German bombers down.

_So tell me what you want to hear_

He evaded some of the bullets coming towards him, twirling through the sky.

_Something that were like those years_

He thinks of his people down there, braving the bombs as he starts firing again.

_Sick of all the insincere_

As yet another bomber explodes, his tiny plane zips through the air, avoiding burning shrapnel.

_So I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

Arthur doesn't even notice he's screaming as he continues to pump bullets into the enemy. For all the pain that Germany was causing him. His people.

_This time_

One of the bombers released a bomb before Arthur could shoot it down. His eyes follow the slow descent, widened with horror.

_Don't need another perfect line_

Distracted, he missed the German aircraft flying towards him. Glancing up, he sees ice blue eyes and slick backed blonde hair.

_Don't care if critics ever jump in line_

His eyes closed in resignation. The bomb hits, the bullets tore through the metal.

_I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

The Gladiator explodes. He's falling now, falling and falling with no one and nothing to save him. His body is illuminated by the flames of his aircraft, and the pain is indescribable. It's so bad that he can't feel anything at all now. Everything's so numb. He briefly wondered whether this is the end for him. His blackened lips part for one word.

"Alfred."

_So tell me what you want to hear_

Shards of memory flashed by as time seems to slow down for Arthur. Scenes of the happy childhood interjected with the sorrow of today. Finding the small boy hiding in the plains. Crying in the rain. Taking him home. Smacking his hand away as he reached for him. Teaching him the alphabet. Tearing up his letters. Building him the soldiers. Killing his people. Singing lullabies to him at night. Yelling at him in meetings. Cooking him food. Shoving his hamburger in the bin. Hugging his small body when he cried. Pushing him away when he hurt.

_Something that were like those years _

_Sick of all the insincere_

_So, I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

He regrets what he's done, what he should've done, could've done, but never did.

_This time _

As his people are screaming, as his heart is bleeding, as he spirals down to the ground, he feels oddly at peace as a smile spreads across his face, eventhough it hurt to even twitch.

_Don't need another perfect line _

He did his best, maybe saved someone from dying. It was the best way to go. With his pride and dignity intact. Free-falling, he thinks of the letter in his pocket. Maybe Alfred would finally get it when he hits the ground...or would it just burn in the embers? The letter slipped out of his pocket as he started to lose consciousness. It fluttered in the air, carried by the winds, far far away...

_Don't care if critics never jump in line _

...Everything goes white for Arthur as his eyes closed...

_I'm gonna give all my secrets away_

* * *

Alfred ran into the hospital, pushing past all the nurses and the doctors. He didn't even pause to say sorry as he tore through the floor. Behind him, his twin brother stumbled after him.

He burst into the room.

"ARTHUR!"

His former guardian lies on the bed, completely wrapped in bandages. His eyes are still shut, and the only signs of life from him are the tiny gasps of breath that he exhales and inhales. The twins could only stare in horror as the smell of burnt flesh threatened to overpower them.

Alfred just stared, speechless, before he crossed the room. His hands shook badly, as he knelt beside him. His brother follows suit, and the two of them just kneel in silence. Alfred called his name, his voice cracked and broken, but there's no reply. His lips quivered as the tears spilled down, and he bends his head and cries. Matthew hugged his brother, tears silently flowing down his cheeks.

"Al...fred..."

_All my secrets away_

Both brother's snap their heads up in shock, to see Arthur slowly open his eyes. The blue and green meet, and he whispered his name once again.

"Alfred."

America started to cry, but this time he's also smiling. Arthur looked over and sees Matthew, and greeted him as well, his voice raspy. Matthew covered his face and wept tears of joy.

Arthur finally lets the tears fall.

In the centre of London, the people were rebuilding yet again. Nobody saw the slightly charred envelope poking through the rubble. Written on the cover was "To my beloved son, Alfred."

_All my secrets away_

* * *

**_Yes, the contents of the letter are STILL a secret! XD _**

**_I've always seen England and America as more of a father and son relationship. Partly due to that oh so cute scene when England's holding America in his arms, swearing to protect him. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it._**


End file.
